Late [private to Moon]

Late for breakfast. This is a first for Dean. He woke up startled and then realized that Cabin 6 is empty. Then he looked at the clock, and bam--late. However, he isn't in a hurry to get to the Mess Hall. He's late, and so he'll be late with poise. There's no need to hurry if still you're not going to make it. He overslept for about an hour, and even if he run as fast as he could, he'll not make it. Yeah, horrible principle.

And due to this principle, he arrived at a mostly empty Mess Hall. Without any emotion, he snatched a magic plate, a magic goblet, and made his way to the edge of the hall. Dean doesn't feel like sitting alone Athena's table. He sat at railings of the place, and made himself comfortable. If he did sit at his designated table, then he might as well be screaming 'I'm late!' to everyone. He's breaking the rules, but it's okay if no one's enforcing them. Chiron is not around anymore. And he swore to himself this will be the first and the last time he'll be late.

Dean contemplated at what he'd like to it, and the options he considered gave him a hard time to decide. Lasagna, bacon and eggs, or just bread? Absent-minded, Dean began twirling the plate around with his left hand while he supported the thing with his right hand as he thought about the options.

In the world of Quinn Taylors, set breakfast times were overrated. She hated waking up early, despite the fact that cabin seven was supposed to 'wake up with the sun'. Normally, the girl would rather wake up with the lunch. Her habits were well known, and it wasn't a surprise to her when she saw her clock each morning. The kitchen would always have food, as she had learned.

After dressing herself, she slid on her toms and was out the door, about an hour late. Her hair was still curly from her sleep, but Quinn didn't really mind. She knew the mess hall wouldn't be very busy anyways, since most of the campers were out at the morning training sessions (which she also thought was lame). She jogged through the snow, hoping not to step somewhere in the deeper sections. Eventually, the demigod made it into the building, her shoes damp from the cold.

Yawning as she grabbed a plate and goblet, her eyes scanned the options. She noticed someone else was late for breakfast too, but wasn't really concerned about him as she filled her plate with a variety of things, such as eggs, bacon and toast. As Quinn did so, the girl noticed the guy was putting strange things on his plate. "Who has lasagna for breakfast?" she retorted.

After a rather hard decision making, Dean made his choice: Lasagna. Yum. He looked down at his plate, hoping to witness how the food would pop out of thin air and drop at his plate. One second his plate was empty, and when he blinked--woah. Dean shook his head in amazement, squeezed his fork, and sliced a portion. His eyes darted to a girl, who was probably late too, before putting his food on his mouth. Oh, and the girl is coming to his direction, in earshot. He noticed this girl a while ago, but he didn't think he'll come to this direction and ask something.

Dean's gaze flitted to his right, and to his left. No one else beside them were here, except a few other latecomers, but distance were definitely between them. The girl is definitely talking to him. He swallowed twice before answering. "Me," Dean said. Obviously. "Why, what's the matter with lasagna for breakfast?"

Dean sliced another portion of his lasagna, rather self-consciously now. The girl's way of asking him made him feel like there's something wrong with lasagna for breakfast. He just can't imagine what. He eyed the girl's plate--bacon, eggs, and toasted loaf. Perfectly normal. And even if Dean sees macaroni there, he'll still think it's normal. Is there an etiquette about proper choice of food for breakfast, lunch, or supper? He didn't know this, did he? Dean's hand began to sweat, but his face didn't reveal any emotion he was having now. It's kind of embarrassing, since he was a child of Athena, and yet he didn't know this simplicity.

But there's one thing still bothering him as of this moment. "I suppose there's an etiquette in meals?"

Quinn simply raised an eyebrow at the boy, who she would've responded to if she hadn't been to tired that morning. She also would've sat somewhere else, but if there was anything that the demigod wasn't, it was someone who sat alone. Taking a seat across from the lasagna boy, she began eating her breakfast, trying not to sarcastically reply to the boy.

"Some meals," she responded, biting her tongue afterwards. Quinn brushed her hair out of her face, to view the boy across from her. He looked familiar, but it was a big camp, and she didn't know his name. "Leftovers aren't really something most people eat for breakfast," the girl added with a small shrug. Conversations went better when she wasn't in a half-daze, tired from last night's long hours.

Buttering her toast, the girl glanced over at the food that was being ushered away from the serving area. She half - frowned, knowing that they didn't clean up until about ten-thirty. She must've really slept hard. "Etiquette is a big word, I'm guessing you're from cabin six?" Quinn blurted, unable to keep it from herself. Athena kids were people easy to pick out for their obvious intelligence.

Dean took another bite of his food, and immediately thought about how delicious this is. At dinner he's going to try a new food, probably bring out a food-related book at the library so he can taste each of it. Every edible thing here at camp tasted incredibly delicious--that was if you compare it to the things he and his father eat at the woods. It's usually just fried meat, without any seasonings or whatever. Berries and wild, edible fruits from the forest--that's the usual meal of the duo back in the...

Dean didn't continued the thought. First, he didn't know where it was, and second, because his eyes slightly narrowed and looked at the girl. He almost dropped his fork and his food. Lucky Dean had reflexes that allowed him to regain his grip.

He recognized her answer, but decided to just drop that subject. It was up to him to discover about that 'some meals' that had an etiquette. His face was still void of emotions. "Leftover?" he asked incredulously. "Lasagnas were not leftovers," he insisted.

He looked down at his plate and muttered. "I know leftovers. It's the food people left uneaten..." his voice trailed off. I conjured up my lasagna. It's not a leftover.

"Is it?" he asked when the girl mentioned that etiquette was a big word. He didn't know that. Well, he didn't know most things here. And here's to Dean looking like a complete idiot again. He shook his head after, looking at the girl. "No. I'm from the Nyx cabin, Deandre Nystrom."